The Blood Elf Princess
by A.Ferrari
Summary: Zyane enters young adulthood in the middle of Azeroth's biggest war.
1. Childhood Innocence

**Childhood Innocence**

It was in the years when Azeroth was in the calm before the storm that Zyane Theron met Rillen Rommath. Both were the offspring of very powerful blood elves: Zyane being the only daughter of Lor'themar Theron and Rillen being the son of Grand Magister Rommath. Lor'themar and Rommath never made it their business that their children should meet, but it was inevitable that they should. Neither had mothers, both lost during child birth, so they were constantly shadowing their fathers. The Grand Magister had returned from the Outlands as the lost Prince's herald and Lor'themar had become the regent to Quel'Thalas. It was only natural that the two should have constant business since Kael'thas had betrayed his people.

"I understand your skepticism, Theron, but I assure you that I had no idea that the Prince was serving the dark forces," the Grand Magister said as he strolled the halls of Sunfury Spire with the regent lord.

Theron sighed. "We had such hope in Kael'thas. This is quite a blow."

Zyane stopped listening to her father's boring conversation and instead, started to trail behind him. She was sure to stay near him, but Zyane stopped for a few seconds every so often to peek out the high windows or look into a door that was curiously cracked open.

Lor'themar stopped at the entrance of a room – a room Zyane knew very well as the Spire's library – while Rommath entered.

"Where's he going, Daddy?" Zyane asked.

"The Grand Magister is retrieving his son, dear," Lor'themar answered, rubbing Zyane's full head of dark red curls.

"He's got a kid?"

"Hm? Oh yes; a young warlock. Rillen is your age. But be kind to him, darling. Rommath will be your teacher soon, so I suspect you'll be seeing quite a lot of the young lad."

"Yes, Daddy," Zyane replied politely. She rocked on her heels beside her father, interested to meet this boy.

Rommath exited the library, apologized to Lor'themar, and then introduced the scrawny little boy beside him.

"This is my son, Rillen. He's a quiet one, but he is very gifted and smart."

Lor'themar bent down to greet the boy. "Hello, Rillen. It's very nice to meet you."

"_Bal'a dash_," Rillen replied quietly, shaking Lor'themar hand.

"This is my daughter Zyane." Lor'themar thrust his daughter forward, nearly right into Rillen. "She's your age. Perhaps you two can become friends."

"Hello, Rillen," Zyane smiled. "I'm a mage. One day, your dad is going to teach me."

"Nice to meet you," Rillen smiled back.

Lor'themar looked at Rommath. "I think they'll get along just fine. Shall we continue?"

While their fathers continued talking and walking, Zyane and Rillen had trouble following them. Zyane wanted to know everything about Rillen while Rillen was trying his hardest to answer her.

"You've really been _everywhere _in Silvermoon?" Zyane asked while she walked backwards in front of Rillen.

Rillen shrugged. "Well, sure. Father's busy a lot and sometimes I can't come with him, so I explore the city."

"Oh," Zyane replied, a hint of jealousy in her voice. "My father won't let me leave Sunfury Spire without him. I have to sit through very boring war meetings and stuff like that. But maybe he'd let me come with you! He's always scolding me for not sitting still during the meetings or being too loud, so I bet he'd be happy that I'd have someone to play with!"

"Well," Rillen started, rubbing at the back of his neck, "I usually go by myself, but I guess you can come along sometime."

Zyane smiled behind the waves of untamed curls. She joined Rillen and put her arm around his skinny shoulder. "You're my best friend, Rillen."

"I-I am?" Rillen stuttered.

"Yep!"

Rillen didn't say anything – keeping his head down – but he did smile; the biggest smile he ever remembered making.

"Please, Daddy! I don't want to sit through another boring meeting!" Zyane cried.

Rommath and Lor'themar stood in the regent lord's council room, feeling hostage as the wild young blood elf threw her temper tantrum.

"It's not safe, Zyane," Lor'themar groaned. "How many times have I told you that?"

"Not to undermine you, Theron, but she'd just be in the city. Rillen knows not to go beyond our protection. Why not let the girl play for an hour or so then she's to come back to the council room?" Rommath suggested.

Theron sighed, obviously defeated. "The gods granted you far more parenting skills than I, I think." He turned to Zyane. "You may go out with Rillen for an hour, Zyane, and no more. I will let the guards know that you are not to leave the city and I swear, if they see you step one foot beyond the walls I will paint your backside the same color as your hair, girl. One hour and you're to return here, understand?"

"Yes, daddy," Zyane replied, trying to control her excitement.

"Good," her father said, exasperated. He took the cloak that was folded over a chair and pinned it around Zyane's neck. "Behave yourself and stay safe." Lor'themar placed a long kiss on his daughter's forehead.

"I will!"

Within minutes, Zyane had bolted out of Sunfury Spire and into the city of Silvermoon. The golden and opal colors of all the buildings in Silvermoon City were painted in the dusk's yellow glow, giving it a blush of calm. The city was anything but calm, though. Merchants were trying to sell the last of their goods, warriors of all kinds were finishing their last hour of training with gusto, and the young adolescents were gossiping and giggling their way home or to a tavern. Even in the waning light, Silvermoon was alive.

Zyane found Rillen waiting for her at the glorious fountain that the Spire overlooked. The golden light shined off his dark black hair that framed his young face. She waved to him gleefully.

"I was starting to worry your father had said no," Rillen said as Zyane approached him.

"He almost did," Zyane admitted, "but your father convinced him. I have to come back in an hour, though."

Rillen shrugged. "I can show you my favorite places anyways."

And so he did. Rillen and Zyane ran through the city like the young innocence they were. Zyane would laugh loudly and uncontrollably, while Rillen just smiled and occasionally giggled to himself. He showed her a hidden corner in the Walk of Elders where the butterflies fluttered and the smell of flowers was strong and overwhelming beautiful. Rillen showed Zyane the enchanted brooms that swept the city's cobble paths unendingly and how he loved to pretend they were chasing him. By the time Rillen had showed Zyane everything he wanted to, they both were so tired that they simply lied down in the middle of a walkway and stared up into the sky.

In the quiet, Rillen turned on his side to look at Zyane. "We better go back so you don't get in trouble."

"Yeah," Zyane agreed. She picked herself up and brushed off her cloak.

The pair began to walk back to the Spire, despite both wanting to continue their play far into the night. But Zyane, and Rillen, knew that it was better to obey their fathers' wishes than to spend a day in trouble.

Two guards waited outside the Spire for them. They escorted the children to the council room, where they were reminded to sit quietly and not fuss. Zyane took her usual spot in the corner, as far from the table of arguing warlords and generals, and Rillen joined her.

"What are they talking about?" Rillen asked in a whisper.

"I don't know," Zyane shrugged. "I never really listen, except when Prince Kael'thas went to the Outlands. He left, and then something really bad happened. He was defeated by Arthas and then he decided to ally with the Burning Legion," she explained, eyes growing wide. "I guess that's when you and your father came here, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess so. My father was with the prince a lot, but I was too little to be, so I was in a lot of different places in the Outlands. I don't really remember a lot."

The children were interrupted by the snapping of the regent lord's fingers. He turned his head to give them a stern look that said, "Quiet yourselves," before turning back to the table.

They didn't need to be told twice. For the rest of the meeting, the children sat there quietly and politely. Occasionally Zyane would whisper something into Rillen's ear and he would say something back, but they didn't push it much farther than that. At one point, Zyane became very drowsy and sleepy. She rested her head on Rillen's shoulder, trying to get comfortable. Rillen yawned above her, making sleep irresistible. Zyane closed her eyes and slept.

She felt warm, big hands wrap around her and lift her up. They carried her for awhile until she heard a door open and close. Then she felt the soft comfort of her bed. Zyane opened her eyes to see her father in the dark, tucking her into bed.

"Hi, daddy," she cooed tiredly.

Lor'themar smiled. "Did you enjoy your time with Rillen?"

Zyane nodded. "He's my very best friend now."

"I'm glad to hear it. Goodnight, dear."

"Night, daddy."

And it was that night, in the calm cool of September, that Zyane Theron decided she would never be far from Rillen Rommath.


	2. Still A Child

**Still a Child**

Years past as the dark shadow of war casted its shadow on Azeroth. Lor'themar Theron, Regent Lord of Quel'Thalas, was faced with an enormous task. Without a prince, the blood elves were desperately seeking a leader and it fell on Theron's shoulders. But, as everyone suspected he would, Theron took the job with open arms and a strong heart. It was a hard few years for everyone, but the blood elves found alliances with the Horde and sought to help them.

Zyane and Rillen grew up together, with a bit of their fathers' burdens on them. But still, they were happy in each other's company. Zyane trained with Rillen's father to become a very strong and gifted mage, while Rillen trained with the warlocks of Silvermoon. By their twentieth year, Zyane and Rillen were the closest of friends and the brightest of students.

"Rillen," Zyane whispered to the tall, skinny male beside her. She was sitting in the library during her study hour, listening to one of the scholars lecture to her and a few other blood elves.

Rillen rolled his green eyes as he pushed the long strands of dark hair out of his face. He pretended to be irritated that Zyane was being disruptive as usual, but really he was glad for the distraction she offered.

"Rillen!" she whispered again, as loudly as she dared to go.

"What?" he whispered back to the young woman beside him. She had become slender and beautiful in her youth, but he still had a bite of irritation in his voice.

"I heard our fathers talking about sending some blood elves to the Outlands to train in Shattrath City," Zyane explained excitedly. "I have a feeling we'll be two of them."

"Be serious, Zyane," Rillen replied, trying to pretend to listen to the scholar. "Your father would never let you go to the Outlands. It's a miracle when he lets us go to the Undercity."

Zyane sat back in her chair, satisfied with herself. "It'll be different this time."

"Father, please! How am I supposed to ever be strong enough to join _our people _in battle if you never give me the chance to prove myself?" Zyane yelled at her father.

Lor'themar sat at his desk in his study, arms folded across his chest and age wrinkled heavily into his face. "You're not going to join any battle of any sort," he responded calmly.

"Why not?" Zyane cried.

"Because of your obligation to these people, girl! I am old, Zyane, and I will not live forever. The _sin'dorei _have already lost a prince. I'm not about to risk our only heir – and my only daughter – because she is restless! Outlands is out of the question. I will not let the princess of the blood elves walk into the mouth of the Burning Legion.

"Now, if your studies and training aren't keeping you busy enough, I can find something to occupy your time. Perhaps separating you and Rillen will keep you more focused on your duties."

Zyane slammed her foot into the ground and groaned. "Oh, _why _are you treating me like this? I'm twenty years old! I'm not a child!"

Lor'themar had had enough. He stood from his desk. "You are still _my _child and I will continue to do what I think is best for you. I will hear no more of this so unless you have something different to say, please remove yourself from my sight."

When Lor'themar said something, Zyane knew that he meant it and there was no changing his mind. She stormed out of his office, out of the Spire and out of the city. Once there, Zyane took her red hawkstrider and rode it far into the dense forests of Quel'Thalas.

It wasn't that she didn't understand her father's reasoning, Zyane felt that he didn't believe in her. Had she not proved herself time and time again? He was there when the apprentice mages demonstrated their skills and saw how Zyane was far beyond everyone else. Why had he let her train at all if she was never going to get a chance to use her powers?

The beaches of Quel'Thalas were beautiful and healing. Zyane often found this particular one, secluded from everything and everyone, her favorite. She dismounted her hawkstrider then found a seat in the warm sand where the water lapped up against her bare feet.

Time passed. Zyane, in her anger, had taken small handfuls of sea water and turned them into ice balls that she was throwing back into the sea with loud plops. It wasn't until the sun began to set that Rillen arrived looking for her.

He didn't scold her or question her, just remained silent as he always did.

"I am never going to get off this island," Zyane finally said.

"I think you'd find that the worlds beyond this sea are not kind," Rillen replied. "There is more danger and evil out there than we can fathom. I would be afraid for you."

"But you'd come with me, wouldn't you?"

Rillen sighed. "I'd have to Zyane, despite how much I wish to never return to the Outlands."

Zyane bumped Rillen playfully. "I'd protect you."

Rillen smirked. "I don't need protecting. It's just hard to leave a place like this to go to a place like that. Leave that for people like Dallas Brightwing."

Dallas Brightwing was the son of Halduron Brightwing; the military commander and ranger-general to the blood elves. Dallas was a very cocky warrior who fancied adventure and danger. Rillen and Zyane had grown up with him, but they had no interest in playing with him as children. Dallas was rough and bossy as a child and not much had changed… except his appetite for women. It was around Dallas' fourteenth year that he discovered what a handsome blood elf he had turned into. He had a chiseled face with high cheek bones and his father's golden hair. Girls began to notice him and he began to notice them, as well. So when Zyane had simply written him off, Dallas had made it his business to have her affections because he couldn't understand why she had no interest in him. To Zyane, it seemed she was just another thing for Dallas to conquer.

"I don't want to be like Dallas, I just want a chance to learn more and get stronger so that if the time should come, I'd be able to protect our city. That's all," Zyane explained. "If I were to train with Voren'thal the Seer…" she trailed off.

"It's almost as if fate is pulling us apart," Rillen commented sullenly.

"Why do you say that?"

"My father said that I'll be able to train in Orgrimmar soon… and if you want to go to the Outlands…"

Zyane wrapped her arms around Rillen's shoulders. "I won't let it separate us," she said into his neck.

"We should go back before your father starts to worry," Rillen whispered as he rubbed her arm gently.

"Okay." Zyane released Rillen and together they rode back to the city.

They went their separate ways once inside the Sunfury Spire, promising to see each other tomorrow. Zyane found her way to the kitchen where some bread and a warm bowl of soup waited for her. She sipped at the soup and chewed on her bread on the way back to the royal quarters. Once there, Zyane rested in the common room where a fire crackled.

Lor'themar entered the common room. He lowered himself in a plush chair by the fire. "I'm sorry for the way I treated you earlier. Sometimes I wish you were still a child, but I know you're not and I should stop treating you like one."

"I'm sorry, too, father," Zyane said. "It was wrong of me to question your decision. I know I haven't been making this easy for you."

"I just worry for you, dear," Lor'themar explained, taking his daughter's hand. "Losing your mother was devastating. I couldn't bear losing you, and neither could our people."

"I know, father," Zyane replied sadly. She gave her father a hug to reassure him, but she was disappointed. It was not her place to fight in battle, but she didn't want to have to stand aside while others fought for her; it made her feel inadequate. Zyane knew that she had to accept it, though, and tried to look on the bright side. At least she would always have Rillen.

The morning came with promises of new and better. Zyane _felt _better, too, after her father had apologized. Plus, it was Sunday and there were no classes or trainings to go to. That meant a day of relaxing or goofing off with Rillen.

Zyane pulled herself out of bed, stretched then went to her armoire. From the white wooden chest, she chose her royal dark purple robe with the golden lining. She slipped it on and brushed her hair quickly.

In the mirror, Zyane could see how much she looked like her father: long, elegant ears and soft, delicate features that were both inviting and deceiving. But unlike her father, Zyane's hair was dark auburn and wavy. Every time she looked at it, she imagined what her mother looked like. What would her mother say now, knowing that Zyane was never going to become a full-fledged mage? Would she be disappointed, or would she agree with Lor'themar?

Although Zyane had never met her mother, she imagined her to be as wild and untamable as she was. Where her father was rooted and unchanging, Zyane could only imagine that she had come about her wild spirit from her mother. Lor'themar never spoke of his wife, especially now. The pain her memory brought back to him was visible in his features. He must've really loved her, Zyane thought.

At least her mother had died of natural causes. So many, even in Quel'Thalas, lost loved ones to the never-ending wars that raged around them. Brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers left the city and never came back. Children were left parentless and sent away to the orphanage. Parents buried their children. Wives left husbandless to care for a household on their own. And what really pained Zyane was that she would never be able to do anything about it. She would have to do what her father does; be that everlasting figure that inspired hope but nothing more. She would never fight for those lost people, never save a child his parents or a mother her son.

But after all, she was still a child. A princess. And that, she thought sullenly, was more important than what she wanted.


	3. Dallas Returns to Silvermoon

**Dallas Returns to Silvermoon**

Zyane met Rillen by the fountain that morning. He was dressed in his usual tunic and pants with his straight black hair framing his face.

"Morning," he called happily. His smile was real and full, but it waned when he saw Zyane's sullen face. "Still upset about yesterday?"

"What? Oh, no," Zyane replied, shaking her head. She put on a smile, though a little forced. "Just a little tired, maybe."

"Well, let's just take it easy today, then." Rillen was always trying to help Zyane as best he could.

She nodded.

They walked through the city, stopping to watch the hunters practice with their bows or see the paladins dueling. It was a peaceful Sunday morning, and Zyane was glad for it. They detoured to the Bazaar to buy some breakfast. Zyane bought a small loaf of bread and honey, and Rillen got himself a hot sticky doughnut. They both sat down on a bench and ate together.

Rillen was watching the people pass by, until he noticed someone familiar. He was tall and muscular, very sure of himself. When the blood elf turned his face to a young girl beside him and smirked flirtingly, Rillen knew exactly who he was.

"Guess who's here?" Rillen teased.

"Who?" Zyane asked between chews of her bread.

Rillen pointed over to the blood elf who had a crowd of young girls cooing around him.

"Oh, no," Zyane moaned. "I thought he was supposed to be in the Outlands!"

"Maybe they couldn't stand him anymore," Rillen laughed, stuffing the last of his doughnut into his mouth.

"Come on," Zyane said, grabbing Rillen's wrist. "We've got to get out of here before he sees me." She grabbed her bread and began to drag Rillen behind her.

"Zyane!" they heard Dallas call from behind them, but she kept walking. She hoped the crowd of stupid girls he had attracted would hold him up.

Rillen turned to watch Dallas fight his way through the girls, almost tripping over one of them. "He's coming," he warned Zyane.

"Zyane, wait!" Dallas called. "It's me, Dallas!"

That was it. Zyane knew she was stuck. She stopped, let go of Rillen, and turned around. With a sweet, fake smile and a hand on her hip, she waited for Dallas to catch up to them.

"Hello, Dallas. I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you. Usually you have hundreds of girls following you instead of the few dozen back there," Zyane said sarcastically.

Dallas had been away longer than Zyane had realized, because he looked completely taken aback by her comment. When he lived in the city, she was always saying rude and sarcastic things like that to him. "Uh, well, you know," he started, embarrassed. "So, how have you been? Beautiful as ever, I see."

"I've been well," Zyane answered, ignoring his obvious attempt at flirtation. "And you? I thought you were in the Outlands with your father."

"Your father wrote me an urgent message to come straight back. I received it late last night and been flying ever seen."

Zyane and Rillen exchanged looks. "I wonder what that's about," she said to Rillen.

Rillen shrugged. "Nothing bad, I hope."

"It didn't seem bad," Dallas said to answer Rillen, "just urgent, like an important mission or something. I see you're still here, too, Rillen. No desire to fight on the front lines in the Outlands?"

"Magic requires more than just swinging a sword around," Rillen shot back.

"When a demon is staring you right in the face, sometimes 'swinging a sword around' is your best, and fastest, defense," Dallas returned.

"Aren't you supposed to see my father?" Zyane asked to stop the argument that was soon to follow. Rillen and Dallas never really liked each other and often ended up in screaming matches.

"Right," Dallas said. He bowed to them. "I'll see you later, Zyane."

Once Dallas was out of sight, Zyane asked Rillen, "Did he seem different to you?"

"Seemed exactly the same to me," Rillen moped. "I wonder what your father wants, though."

"Yeah," Zyane agreed. "Well, come on let's go, before he comes back."

Rillen and Zyane went their separate ways once dinner time approached and the sun was on its way down. Zyane always had dinner with her father in the dining hall after everyone else had eaten. It was the only time they got to speak without interruption ever since Lor'themar had become regent.

"Why did you call Dallas to Silvermoon, father?" Zyane asked while she pushed the few scraps left on her plate around with her fork.

"So I suppose you've seen him already, then?" Lor'themar wiped his mouth with the napkin on his lap. "Are you finished? We need to talk."

Lor'themar and his daughter walked together to his council room, Zyane wondering the whole time if she had gotten herself into some trouble. Inside, Rommath and Dallas were waiting.

"Hello, master," Zyane said uneasily.

Lor'themar motioned for her to take a seat while he made his way to the head of the table. Once everyone was sitting, he said, "I have been thinking, Zyane, and I understand now that you are right. You're not a child anymore and you deserve the chance to do whatever you wish with your life. The reason I called Dallas back to Silvermoon is because I have decided to let you go to Shattrath City to train, and I want him to protect you."

Zyane raised her eyebrows in shock. "Father… I…" she started. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Lor'themar smiled, "though your thanks should go to Rommath. He did much of the convincing on your part."

"You're a strong mage, Zyane," Rommath said. "You will be a valuable asset after your training in Shattrath is done."

"Thank you, master," Zyane replied, blushing.

"We've arranged for you two to leave tomorrow morning," Theron explained. "A wyvern will take you to the Dark Portal, but you'll have to go through that on your own. On the other side, another wyvern will be waiting to take you to Shattrath."

Zyane, still shocked, stood and said, "I suppose I should pack then. Thank you all, very much."

It wasn't until Zyane was sure she was alone and her bedroom door was locked that she fell to the floor in tears. How torn she felt, knowing that only hours ago she had promised Rillen that she would never leave his side. But she wanted to go, more than anything. There was nothing she could do because either way, she lost. If only she could bring Rillen with her… but no, Rillen was going to Orgrimmar to train. Zyane couldn't bring herself to pull him away from such a wonderful opportunity. And the idea that Dallas would be shadowing her disgusted her. He was poor company and no friend of hers, so she would be alone in the Outlands. Ever since the day she meant Rillen, she was never alone and the idea of it scared her.

There was a quiet knock on her door. Zyane stood and quickly wiped the tears away. She unlocked the door and let Rillen in.

"I was waiting for you but you never showed up," he said, trying to catch her gaze but she avoided his. "What happened?" he cried when he finally saw how distraught she was.

"My father is allowing me to go to Outlands now," Zyane moaned. "Dallas is going to escort me there."

"That's wonderful news, Zyane!" Rillen said, sighing with relief. "What are you so upset?"

"Because I don't want to leave you, Rillen!" Zyane cried, falling into his arms. "I don't want to do this alone."

Rillen cradled Zyane's head against him. "I'll always be with you. But you have to go; you _want _to go. You may never get another opportunity to."

"I know," Zyane sighed.

"I'll write to you every day, okay?" Rillen said, pulling Zyane away from him.

"And every chance I get I'll come visit you." Zyane felt terrible, though. When she said she wanted to leave this island, she meant with Rillen. It never occurred to her that she would have to do it alone, leaving him behind. She didn't want to have to make the choice, but she knew Rillen was right. A chance like this may never arrive again, and it was important to do it now to show her father that she was an adult. What a spoiled child she would look like if she denied the gift her father had worked so hard to get for her.

Rillen, sensing Zyane's pain, only said, "It'll be alright." He didn't know what else to say.

Zyane didn't say anything to Rillen, just looked in his green eyes, wondering what she would've done all her life without him.


	4. Through The Dark Portal

**Through The Dark Portal**

In the early morning, Zyane packed what little clothing and provisions she would need for the trip while the bulk of her belongings were already on their way to Shattrath. She still felt sad, but there was excitement there, too. After all, she had waited her whole life to be given this opportunity.

Grand Magister Rommath, Lor'themar Theron and Rillen met her outside by the wyverns' hold. Each one of them wore a sad, but proud, smile as they watched Zyane approach. Dallas Brightwing was there, too, waiting patiently for her to say her goodbyes.

Zyane approached her father first, who was adorning his usual long red cape over his sparkling gold armor. She wrapped her arms around him. "Goodbye, father, and thank you."

"Train hard, dear, and mind yourself," Lor'themar reminded her. "I love you."

"I love you, too, father."

Next, Zyane hugged her master. "Thank you for everything you have taught me, master."

"Make me proud in Shattrath, Zyane," Rommath replied.

Rillen waited next. Zyane said nothing, but hugged him the hardest and longest.

"You'll do well," Rillen said, trying to reassure her. "I'll write to you as often as I can."

"You're my very best friend. Don't forget that," Zyane whispered before letting him go. Rillen smiled back.

Finally, after a few tears and more kisses and hugs from her father, Zyane moved to join Dallas on the wyvern. She waved excitedly to her family, friends and city before the wyvern took off and soared into the sunrise.

They rode together in silence and Zyane was grateful for it. Dallas was already far too close to her for comfort, but he had made no pass at her. He kept his hands only on her enough to keep her steady, nothing more. Dallas' new attitude was more than refreshing.

After an hour, Zyane was glad to see they were reaching their destination despite how bleak the Blasted Lands looked. The broken horizon of the land before them mixed with the dirty orange of the mountains made Zyane uneasy and anxious to land.

Then the Dark Portal came into view. It stood in a large crater, protected by two huge cloaked guards embedded in the stone columns. The portal itself was made of emerald green and black swirls that led into a different world. It was both terrifying and mesmerizing in its beauty. Zyane couldn't fathom that they were going to just walk through it, as if it was just a curtain of sorts.

The wyvern landed with a thud in front of the stairs that led up to the portal. Small groups were running or riding their way up to the portal, cheers of glory and bravery ringing through the thick air before they simply disappeared.

Dallas helped Zyane climb down off the wyvern and handed her the small pack she brought with her.

"Ready?" he asked.

Zyane nodded.

Together they walked up the grand staircase made of some sort of marble or polished rock. Zyane didn't know, but she noticed that the colors of the portal seemed to gleam off it. At the top, Zyane bit her lip, feeling very small in the face of such a massive… she didn't even know what to call it.

"You want me to go through first, princess? It's intimidating," Dallas explained, "but you'll only feel a bit disoriented, nothing more."

Zyane considered. "Maybe you ought to go through first, then." That way, she thought, she wouldn't have to be faced with the unknown alone.

Dallas shouldered his own pack and then, very confidently, approached the Dark Portal. He stood there for only a moment, as if he was preparing himself, and then he took that last step through. He was gone before Zyane could blink.

It was Zyane's turn now. She cautiously approached the Dark Portal, feeling the air being pulled through it around her. With a finger, she brushed the surface. It ripped like water. Having nothing to lose, Zyane decided to go for it. She clenched her fists and stepped through.

Immediately after she felt her feet touch solid ground, Zyane knew Dallas was right. She was very disoriented and dizzy. And the sounds of swords clashing, fires raging and grunts dying didn't make her want to open her eyes. Had she gone through wrong and ended up in the middle of some fierce battle?

"Princess, open your eyes. It's okay," Dallas' voice said somewhere close.

One green eye opened after the other and the whole of Hellfire Peninsula was before her. Demons, giant ones with large swords, were fighting, killing and dying only a few hundred yards away. Horde and Alliance ran back and forth in front of her, consumed in their own battle-born confusion. Yells and orders filled the air.

"Welcome to the front lines," Dallas said sardonically.

Zyane didn't like this. This was too much all at once. She had never seen any member of the Burning Legion, let alone its entire army. It was truly eye-opening and she wanted nothing more than to do what she could to stop the Legion from breaking through and getting to Azeroth. With her training, Zyane hoped it would give her the strength that these people on the front lines had.

"Come, let's go before we get in the way," Dallas stated. He led her over to another wyvern which would take them into the heart of the Outlands.

Shattrath City was the only city in the Outlands that offered protection and salvation. Many had lost their homes or families and had nowhere else to turn. Shattrath was built with them in mind. Because of that, it was filled with the poor and downtrodden, which led to crime and turf wars in the Lower City parts. But high ranking officers or well-known trainers were stationed there so the city wasn't only for those who have had bad luck.

The wyvern landed on the Scryer's Tier, a large peninsula cut out of Terrorkar Forest that overlooked the inner city and the large dome sanctum in the middle. The Scyers were the blood elves who left with Voren'thal to help build Shattrath with the naaru. Zyane knew that immediately, as the blood elf flag flew high from some of the surrounding trees and the magnificence in blood elf architecture was present in the Scryer's Library. Zyane almost felt at home here.

As soon as they had both dismounted, a young blonde blood elf came at them with her hips swinging side to side and a large smile on her face.

"Dallas Brightwing!" she cooed wildly, throwing Zyane out of the way. "I knew you'd come back!"

Dallas shrunk away from her, embarrassed. "H-hello, Cynthia. I thought you were supposed to be in Sunstrider Isle with your father?"

"Oh, my father decided that I wasn't ready," Cynthia said, pushing her bottom lip out in a pout. "But that doesn't matter because _you're _here, now." She took her slender finger and traced the engravings on his chest plate.

"Yes," Dallas said sternly, removing her hand, "on _official _business."

Cynthia raised an eyebrow skeptically. "What kind of business?"

Dallas nodded towards Zyane, who was brushing the dirt from her robe impassively.

Cynthia's eyes widened. She walked past Dallas and right up to Zyane. "How far along are you, sweetie? You know, your child's very lucky to have someone like Dallas Brightwing as a father."

Zyane interrupted her. "I am _not _pregnant, especially with Dallas' child."

"What?" she turned back to Dallas, placing her fists on her hips. "What are you doing here then?"

"I told you already, Cynthia. I'm here on official business. Don't you recognize your own princess?"

Cynthia turned back to Zyane, who regarded her quizzically. "_That's _the lord regent's daughter? Why, she's doesn't look like royalty at all. You've certainly lowered your standard in women, Dallas."

"I will not have you disrespect the princess in my presence!" Dallas yelled, grabbing Cynthia's wrist. "I should have you arrested for your vile tongue!"

"Ow, okay, okay, Dallas, let me go," Cynthia cried. She looked at him while she tentatively rubbed her wrist. "You've changed." With that, Cynthia left.

Dallas stood there, huffing as he controlled his anger. He looked at Zyane over his shoulder. "I apologize, princess."

"She's right," Zyane said, approaching him. "You have changed."

Dallas and Zyane checked into the Scryer's inn. Zyane was happy to smell familiar scents of home inside the inn; the delicate fragrance of fresh flowers mixed with the pleasant smells of brewing honeymint tea.

"I'd like to get a room for two nights, please," Dallas asked the innkeeper.

"One room?" Zyane asked nervously.

"I'm sorry princess, but I only have enough gold for one room. Besides, you'll be moving into the library in a few days," Dallas explained as he handed a handful of gold coins to the innkeeper.

Zyane rolled her eyes. She had a feeling Dallas had planned this. As if he didn't know how much gold he would need to house the both of them. Reluctantly, she followed him down the hallway and into the room assigned to them.

There was a large bed, covered in a heavy feather blanket with soft plush pillows, red silk curtains covering the small round window. A small vanity and armoire sat in the far corner, giving the room a homely feel. But there wasn't much room overall. Zyane had a feeling she would feel very cramped these next two days.

Dallas obviously had no qualms about the room; he wasted no time getting comfortable. Right in front of Zyane, Dallas removed his armor and the clothes underneath it, stripping down to only his under clothes. Zyane tried not to look, but the various scars Dallas had collected drew her attention. One ran down from his chest through his abdomen. Another was round, and the size of her fist. All were badges of his bravery.

Once he was dressed in his common clothes, he put his armor in the corner neatly. "I'm going to gather supplies and stretch my legs for awhile," Dallas told Zyane. "Feel free to have a look around if you wish, but I'll return before dark." He bowed quickly at the waist before leaving.

Zyane waited till she was sure he was gone before changing out of her robes into a night gown. She climbed into the soft bed and promptly fell asleep, dreaming of home and Rillen.


	5. The Scryer's Library

The Scryer's Library

Zyane woke abruptly in the middle of the night, heart racing. She had a nightmare, but she couldn't recall what it was about. She looked around the dark room. The only source of light was the bright moon shining in through the small window. Dallas was on the floor, snoring.

Zyane laid back down once she had calmed down. It must've been years since she had a nightmare like that. She sighed. Knowing she wouldn't get back to sleep in her current excited state, Zyane decided to get up and have a look around. Quietly, she stepped over Dallas and left the inn.

The night was cool and quiet; every so often there would be a caw of a bird or the flap of some feathers off in the distance. Fires lit in the oil lamps emitted a welcoming orange glow. This kind of peace was only known at night in the Outlands, when enemies and soldiers alike put down their weapons to rest.

There was a stone path that snaked through the Scryer's Tier. With her bare feet, Zyane followed it to a wooden bench that overlooked the city. Flower pots with a myriad of colors inside bounced up and down beside her with their magical suspension. She was reminded of her mother, and how Lor'thermar told Zyane that her mother used to cast the spells they held up the flower pots. "To be sure their beauty would not go unnoticed," he told Zyane. Absently, Zyane wondered if her mother would be proud of her.

The quiet was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Zyane looked out into the dark, unable to see. Cautious as her father taught her to be, Zyane conjured a small ball of flame into the palm of her hand and held it out. It casted enough light to see the figure of a woman approaching her. It was the girl Dallas was arguing with before.

"Hello, Princess," Cynthia sneered.

Zyane crinkled her nose. She didn't like that this girl had such a problem with her. For all Zyane cared, Cynthia could have Dallas.

"You know, Dallas and I have _quite _the history," Cynthia said, shifting her weight the side.

"Look," Zyane replied, stopping Cynthia. "I didn't _want _him to come with me; my father gave me no choice. He's been nothing but a pain in my side since we were little."

"Because of you, Dallas left me," Cynthia seethed, pointing an accusatory finger at Zyane. "But now that he's back, I won't let you come between us again."

For most of her life, Zyane had trained for combat, but she was not prepared for what happened. Cynthia cracked her across the cheek, catching Zyane completely off guard. She fell to the ground and clutched her face to stop the stinging. Cynthia left before Zyane had time to recollect herself and do some serious damage to the little wench.

Off in the distance, Dallas was calling Zyane frantically. He finally saw her on the ground and raced up to her. The blood trickling from the corner of her lip ignited his rage. "What happened? Who did this to you?"

"Please, just go away Dallas," Zyane whispered.

"What _happened?_" Dallas asked again, grabbing her arm.

"Let go of me!" Zyane cried. She ripped his grip from around her arm. "You have caused me nothing but trouble!"

Zyane ran off into the distance, back to the hotel room. She crawled under the blankets in the dark and cried until she fell asleep. Dallas came into the room later, quietly as to not disturb Zyane, and lied awake. Sleep would not come to him in this state, knowing that the only person who he really ever cared about hated him.

The morning brought a sense of ease to Zyane. She felt bad about yelling at Dallas for what happened; in reality, he had done nothing intentionally to hurt him. Maybe she had just harbored so much hatred for Dallas over the years, which wasn't fair. He had been nothing but protective and attentive to her since their travel to Outlands. She truly owed him an apology.

Looking over her bed, Zyane saw that Dallas wasn't there. His armor was still in the corner, but he was nowhere to be found. Zyane couldn't blame him for wanting to get out as soon as possible.

Zyane shrugged, knowing she would see him sooner or later, and decided to go have a look around. Once she was dressed, Zyane lumbered out into the cool morning air. Shattrath was humming with noise below. It wasn't the orderly hustle and bustle of Silvermoon City and Zyane realized how much she missed home. She turned her sights to the library.

The Scryer's Library was just what Zyane was looking for. The floors were marble white with gold trim to match the white walls. The circular windows donned red silk curtains that bled a pink color when the light shined through them. A familiar scent filled the air; the smell of parchment and ink. She ran her fingers over the spines of shelf of books, feeling every indent of every letter. Worry and doubt would be lost in the pages of fantasy and imagination written in these books. Knowledge was begging to be learned and used.

Zyane stopped at a thin book with an emerald cover titled _Fire and Ice: A Mage's Guide. _She pulled it from the shelf and took it over to a small desk. The day was lost in that book. Zyane never once looked up even as the sun disappeared behind the mountains and the moon shone brightly into the small circular windows. It wasn't until it was too dark to read that Zyane realized she had spent the entire day there, having gone without any food.

Standing was difficult, but after she stretched out her back, Zyane was fine. She closed the book, caressing the cover as if it was a child, and put it back. She was so excited to try what she had read!

Out in the twilight, shops and blood elves were packing it in for the night, happy to do so. Many looked relieved to be going home to a dinner or a warm bed. Zyane, however, didn't feel that way. She wanted to find the first open area she could.

Zyane's plans were quickly interrupted when Dallas came storming over to her, face molded with worry. "Princess," he sighed, "where have you been? I have been looking for you all day!"

_Oops, _she thought. She hadn't realized that she still had Dallas to deal with. "I'm sorry, I was just in the library."

"The _library_? You spent all day in the _library?" _Dallas asked, pushing his fingers through his blonde hair.

Zyane nodded. She looked around, past Dallas, into the woods. There, off in the distance, was a clearing. "Come on!"

Zyane dragged Dallas to the clearing, ignoring his grumbles. She looked up into the sky, sure that there was no branches. Then, she instructed Dallas to back up. Eyes closed, Zyane spread her arms wide and tilted her head up. The air warmed as if it was summer. Soon, Dallas was sweating from his brow, but he kept watching. All of a sudden, fire fell from the sky around Zyane but never touching her. Embers glowed on the ground, bathing Zyane in red light. Zyane unexpectedly opened her eyes and the fire stopped. She whispered something incoherent, closing her eyes once again. Now the air was cold, almost freezing. White balls of ice dropped to the ground, hissing as it hit the hot embers. Sapphire light shimmered all around Zyane as she drowned her world in cold.

Dallas never stopped watching, even when the fire and ice threatened to hit him. His eyes never left Zyane. He always thought she was beautiful – anyone could see how naturally beautiful she was – but she had changed his definition of beauty. She was all he imagined, all he ever wanted.

When Zyane opened her eyes again, she saw Dallas staring. She never saw him stare like this before. It made her blush.

"Dallas, why are you staring?" she asked, hoping to bring him from his trance.

"Oh, I apologize, Princess," Dallas stuttered. He rubbed the back of his neck. "You are…amazing. Your magic, I mean."

"Thank you," Zyane responded, remembering how rude she had been to him last night. "I am sorry for what happened last night, by the way. You have been nothing but kind to me since we've arrived."

"I'm sure I deserved it in some way or another," Dallas smiled.

His smile struck Zyane differently for the first time in all her years of knowing him, as if that childish gallantry had finally left and all that was left was a man with sincerity and courtesy. She looked at him with a sort of fond curiosity, similar to meeting an old friend again for the first time. Without so much as a whisper, Zyane wrapped her arms around Dallas' neck and held him to her. She could smell his musk and the cold press of his armor. He took her small frame in his hands, burying his face into her neck and allowing her curls to caress him.

They stood there like that, in the middle of the woods, with only the moon to see them. Dallas never made a move to kiss Zyane, much too afraid to even let her go. But when he did finally, Dallas took Zyane's hand in his and they walked side by side back to their room. He held onto her all throughout the night, and her onto him. Dallas wondered where she had been all his life while he slept; Zyane wondered why she hadn't really seen him before.


End file.
